************
The man who had been speaking seemed to anticipate this reaction.
He let out a small, knowing breath.
"Yes," he said simply.
"That's exactly how I described her before."
His gaze remained fixed on Scarlette, unwavering despite the doubt surrounding him.
"And I wasn't wrong."
The others frowned even deeper, unable to reconcile the difference.
Because no matter how they looked at it—
The woman before them was nothing like the child he had described.
Not in appearance.
Not in presence.
And yet…
There was something in his voice.
Something resolute.
Something certain.
He understood their confusion.
Of course he did.
Because he had questioned it himself—the moment recognition struck him.
The moment he looked into her eyes.
Slowly, he exhaled.
"Back then… I didn't think much of it," he admitted. "I just believed she was… a strange, kind-hearted child who happened to pass by."
